


'Don't want your body, but I hate to think about you with somebody else'

by Forbiddenmichael



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Crying, Established Relationship, Fighting, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Michael clifford/Luke hemmings - Freeform, Minor Luke Hemmings/Ashton Irwin, One-Sided Attraction, THERE IS A HAPPY ENDING THO, ash is an idiot, calum in only mentioned, lots of crying ugh, please just read it omg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-28
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-23 18:00:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6125260
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Forbiddenmichael/pseuds/Forbiddenmichael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael was at every corner of his mind, Ashton lurking behind him and whispering words of treacherousy and lies into a pliable Michaels’ ear. Words that would then fall from the green-eyed boy’s mouth, expression straight but eyes still as eerily deadly and angry as the last time Luke had seen him. These words were now worst, from the depths of his own mind, and Luke had been filling in the spaces, warping and contorting Michael’s words till they felt more like shards of glass in his heart than stabs in the gut. He was punishing himself, even though in reality he had done nothing wrong. </p><p>or Luke's entire world, Michael included, come crashing down when Ashton can't hold his alcohol and Michael cant control his rage</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Don't want your body, but I hate to think about you with somebody else'

**Author's Note:**

> yay so another conversion cos I cant be bothered to write anything normally okayyyy 
> 
> title from somebody else by the 1975 as I was listening to it whilst writing this and it kinda fits tbh 
> 
> anyway, enjoy and don't kill me cos im not updating my chaptered fic!! 
> 
> comments and kudos are always much appreciated :)) enjoy!

As Michael stood, Luke could almost see the rage in his mere stance. He was towering, or crowding Luke against the wall- arms on either side of his head and feet a small space away from his own-the blonde was refraining from shaking- just barely -due to the pure fact that he thought he could even see how angry his boyfriend was by a tangible cloud surrounding them both. The older boy’s shoulders where hunched forward, almost as if he was shrinking inwards to make himself smaller, but it wasn’t a defensive move and it only caused Luke to feel more surrounded by the seething Michael. Michael’s green eyes flashed dark and dangerous and the hot breath that fanned over Luke’s face everything time Michael breathed out heavily had him shivering. And it wasn’t the good shivering. At any other moment in time, if Michael had done this to Luke, if Michael had Luke pinned against the wall, hot angry breaths across his face, and his eyes dark with hunger, Luke would have been weak at the knees. 

But now, even if Luke _was_ still weak at the knees, it was because his head was spinning as well with the thought that his world was coming crashing down right before his eyes. Luke hadn’t seen him this angry since he turned up to Michael’s house on Calum’s invitation for their first band practice. (Michael hadn’t known, so when Calum dragged a starry eyed Luke into Michael’s front room, to say the look of horror on his face was quite terrifying would be an understatement.). And now Luke felt that same terror that he felt when he looked on Michael that day with his guitar in hand and feet shuffling awkward beneath him. Back then he wanted the world to swallow him whole, now he wanted the world to swallow him up and not let him back out into a world where Michael looked a Luke with this look of disgust, and if Luke forced himself to look close enough, _pain_. Luke tried to push away the feeling that behind Michael’s front of seething rage, he was hurt. He was hurting and Luke was- for the first time in a long _long_ time- powerless to do anything about it. 

Michael broke his tight lipped grimace to start his onslaught on Luke emotions. Luke could sense that this wasn’t going to be easy and he wasn’t going to come out better for this. Michael knew how and where to cut Luke to make him bleed, and if the way his hands were clenching into fists on the wall was anything to go by, he was going to put his knowledge to his advantage. 

Do you really expect me to believe that my best friend just” he made air quotes around the next statement, emphasising the fact he thought the explanation was anything but true “ _’threw himself on you’_ , and _forced_ you to kiss him.” Michael shouted in his boyfriend’s face- but in Luke’s head he revised the title and realised it was probably more accurate to use the term ex-boyfriend. Spittle flew from his bottom lip, hitting Luke’s cheeks-cheeks that were being heated and had begun to grow hot. The heat behind them a painful mix of terror, general upset and something similar to anger that was bubbling in his own stomach. “Did he force you to stick your tongue down his throat as well?!” The green of his eyes clouding over, turning a deep black. 

Stunned to the spot, and backed against the door to the shared bedroom in Michael’s and his shared apartment, Luke felt a feeling of overall powerlessness because he knew that no matter how many times he tried to explain himself, his pleas and screams were going to be brushed aside as lies in aid to cover up his sins. His own hands were clenching and unclenching by his sides but they may as well have been left limp at his sides as no matter the angry he felt it wasn’t like he could act upon it. Michael’s set jaw showed nothing more than hatred.

Tears bleared Luke’s vision, the line between anger and upset too far merged for Luke to determine why the tears were there. The could have been hot when they tumbled down his cheeks, warm from the fire burning in him, or cold as ice representing how cold his heart had started to freeze. Words were tumbling from his mouth, the filter gone, not that any of his words seamed to reach Michael’s ears anyway. 

What do you expect me to tell you Michael!?” Luke questioned, and in this instance the anger outweighed the desperation in his voice. “You left and he kissed me! If you won’t believe me when I said that _he_ , kissed _me_ , then why would you believe me defending myself?!” he shouted, trying to make Michael realise how irrational he was being, hoping he would recoil slightly and the colour would return to his eyes. Unfortunately, and not really surprising, the older boy didn’t relent. He only sucked in another breath before starting again. 

“Calum I would understand, we all know how handsy he gets when he’s drunk, so I wouldn’t really be surprised if you said that this was Calum who’d cause this-“he paused and threw his hands up, gesturing to the two of them and the rest of the room, “- _mess_.” 

(There was a time that Michael had giggled into Luke’s neck, both of their hearts still beating hard and their legs tangled in white sheets. He had nuzzled his small nose into the fluffy hairs at the back of Luke’s neck, still damp with sweat from previous exertions. Luke had told him to stop, just to leave him and his sweaty body alone because he was a mess. Michael had placed a long kiss behind his ear- just below the line of sweaty hair and whispered “Yes, but you’re my hot mess.” That time seemed really long off now) 

“But Ashton! Really, Luke? He’s like an older brother to all of us, why would he even think of doing that?” his whole tone was accusing as he spoke, almost as if he was convinced that his best friend and band mate was completely innocent. This caused Luke’s blood to boil, finally letting the hurt and betrayal take over. The sparkling smile that Michael thought about when thinking of Ashton had been far from what he had seen before Ashton contaminated Luke’s lips with his own. 

“The sun doesn’t shine out of his arse, Mike” the blonde cried, in a way that managed to sound repulsed at both the fact that they kissed and that Michael thought he had wanted it. 

“And it evidently doesn’t shine out of yours” Michael spat, before turning round and storming off.  
His feet stomped on the tiled floor when he walked into the kitchen; he still had his boots on and the little trail of mud that fell of them as he walked reminded Luke of the dirty colour of Ashton’s hair when it was brushing his forehead in the half light. Luke’s stomach lurched, and bile rose in his throat. 

“Michael.” he croaked, all the emotions catching up with him, the anger fizzling out leaving despair. The call of his name, just a subconscious little noise, escaped past his lips and made its way to Michael’s ears before he could think about its consequences. 

“What?!” he spun round. “Have you not run back to your lover yet? Or have you lost all interest in wrapping your grubby hands all over him since you know he doesn’t actually like you?!” the steam could almost be seen coming out of his ears as the torrent followed. Luke stood gaping like a fish, now tears of horror staining his cheeks. Michael ploughed on, oblivious to every twist of the knife in his heart and how every new sentence felt like a kick to the blonde’s stomach. 

Michael’s eyes had gone from being pitch black, to ablaze with flickering flames, a fire consuming the evergreen of his pupils. “Oh that it isn’t it! You like the fact he’s older, don’t you? The fact he’s something you can’t have. The whole older brother dynamic” he shouted, saliva flying from his lips. “Well _guess what?_ ” he paused, staring at the younger boy, but not really seeing him, or the crumpling of his face, or the trembling of his hands, or the salt stains on his- actually it may have been Michael’s- top from the tears, or the breath that was catching in his throat and threatening to choke him. 

“He doesn’t want you!” now the older boy was screaming. His voice raised way too high to be taken as any normal argument to the neighbours who could probably hear the two of them through the thin walls or passers-by in the street below, who could possibly here his seething rage through the open window. “And neither do I!” the words struck low. Like a hand grabbing at Luke’s heart and ripping it out of his chest. Ripping it out, taking it under a combat boot clad foot and pushing down. Crushing it and leaving it bloody and broken on the floor. 

Not bothering to stay a minute longer in the room, Michael spanned the space of the room, till he was inches from the other boy’s face. The heat of the older boy’s body hit his, but this time it wasn’t in a moment of passion and it left him trembling. 

“ _I don’t want you, Luke_.” he whispered, the chill in his voice haunting and terrifying. He punctuated ever word and they hit him in fast concession, heightening the churning feeling in his gut. 

Large heavy footsteps didn’t reach the blonde’s ears as he collapsed to the floor, the only sound that of heavy erratic breathing, the dangerously loud beating of his heart and rushing of his blood to his head. The door slammed shut and the footsteps carried on until they faded away. Clutching at his stomach, Luke rocked himself on the floor, physically holding himself together to prevent pieces breaking all over floor. His teeth bit down hard into his lip, hardly muffling the wails of pain that wracked through his frail body in time to the waves of pain rolling through him. 

By the time Michael let himself back into the house hours later, he was drunk off his face. So it was a good idea that Luke was nowhere to be seen. The only evidence he had been there- apart from all the items laced with memories to bountiful to indulge in- was a slight patch of salty water left on the floor. A deep dark patch of water-logged carpet that would soon dry up, taking away any physical remainders of himself, most of them anyway. The sheets that Michael climbed into, his legs like jelly, still smelled of the blonde boy. Not that Michael realised this when he fell into a comatose state of heavy, heavy sleep. 

* * * 

Three days later Michael got a text. His first communication or interaction with something or someone that wasn’t a microwave oven, a pizza or a pixelated character behind the screen of a TV or computer. 

> **From Ashton 02.01PM:**  
>  _Hi Mike. I hate myself for having to even think about saying all of this over text, but I’m sorry. I hate what I have done to you, and to Luke. To the both of you as separate people, because I can’t imagine how much Luke’s head is all over the place right now, and about how you can’t even begin to understand how two people you love- albeit in different ways- would do this to you. But also to the two of you as a couple, God I hope I haven’t ruined all of that for you, I’ve never seen you happier than when you are together. Luke never deserved this, and frankly neither did you. That night I was the one who kissed him and I hate myself for thinking I was able to do that even when we all know how devoted to each other you are. I’m a coward and a dick for not telling you this sooner or in person, but I couldn’t._
> 
> _I couldn’t see your face when I told you that it was my fault, I couldn’t. Not even for Luke, as the thought of how you would hate me as much as I hate myself was too much. You’re like a brother to me Mike, and Luke too. I wasn’t thinking straight, you know how I get when I drink. I’m no Calum and I know that’s no excuse. Don’t hate Luke, hit me, block me out, ignore me, but don’t hate me either, please I beg you. I’m sorry. I’m so so sorry. Ash x_  
> 

The words repeated themselves over and over in Michael’s head that night. Not the words of Ashton’s confession but the hateful, piecing, menacing words that had bridged the place between him and the blonde that held his heart in his hand. ‘I don’t want you, Luke’ echoed through his head, behind his blood shot eyes. And as he bawled into Luke’s pillow, a pillow that didn’t really smell like him anymore, he thought about how he didn’t think he had wanted the tall blonde boy with long legs, and piercing blue eyes any more than he did in that moment.

* * * 

Luke didn’t know how long it had been since he had grabbed most of his clothes- with difficultly thanks to the tears burning and stinging his eyes, and fled from his and Michael’s shared apartment. It had been hours that dragged out with every shaky breath, every contained tear and choked back sob. Crashed at his parents’ house, his mum had tried to comfort the blonde, through plates of untouched toast and bowls of uneaten soup, all of which piled higher and higher on a desk that he hadn’t sat at since he’d first met Michael. Michael was at every corner of his mind, Ashton lurking behind him and whispering words of treacherously and lies into a pliable Michaels’ ear. Words that would then fall from the green-eyed boy’s mouth, expression straight but eyes still as eerily deadly and angry as the last time Luke had seen him. These words were now worst, from the depths of his own mind, and Luke had been filling in the spaces, warping and contorting Michael’s words till they felt more like shards of glass in his heart than stabs in the gut. He was punishing himself, even though in reality he had done nothing wrong. 

* * * 

“Luke, honey?” His mother called from behind the closed door to his bedroom. Not daring to see her son encased in the darkness that was not just due to the closed curtains and lack of sunlight in the room, but the hollowness in his heart, she barely came into the room anymore. “There’s someone here to see you” she said, her voice sounding sad. 

“Who is it?” the blonde croaked his voice scratchy from doing nothing but crying the last few days. 

She paused, “It’s…Calum” she said. But the strain in her voice, and the pause told him that she was lying. There was no way that she would let him say no to the person stepping inside, and it’s not like the person at the door could be told that he wasn’t there either. 

“Okay” he muffled out. As Luke sat up straighter, pulling the duvet up higher around himself, he just hoped it wasn’t Michael. Or Ashton. Luke didn’t know who was worst… 

Michael. Michael was definitely worst. His red ringed eyes, matted greasy hair and purple bags under his eyes looking terrifying compared to the white translucency of his skin. He was wearing a pair of tracksuit bottoms, an old pair that Luke hadn’t seen in ages and it must have been because the older boy had nothing else to wear seeing as Luke wasn’t there to wash his clothes for him. A surprising and uncomfortable surge of anger swelled in the blonde’s stomach at that. 

“ _Luke_ ” he spoke. The name crackling through the room and electrifying the air at the way his voice broke at the end. Luke turned his head away, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye before facing the older boy in front of him. 

Steeling his emotions, collecting his breaking heart, shoving it in a box and pushing it under the many other contained emotions and urges, he spoke “What do you want Michael?” his voice was neutral, hiding the way the sharps of ice in his heart twisted and more wounds formed. Frozen to the spot Michael’s mouth flopped open and closed. “You made it clear you don’t want me, so what are you doing here?” His voice rising and pitching higher. 

“P-please” Michael whispered, tears falling down his own cheeks, his hand tugging and yanking at his own hair in distress. 

“Please _what_ Mike?” he spat out, emotions boiling over. “Please forgive you? Did Ashton finally tell you? Hm? Did he? What did he say? That I flung myself all over him? That I shoved him against a wall and forced his hands up my shirt? Is that what he said?” Now it was the younger of the two standing up and walking towards the other. Michael’s six foot something height giving him no advantage as he visibly shrunk in on himself. Making himself smaller as if to avoid the amount of space the words flying from Luke’s mouth could hurt and injure. 

“N-no, he didn’t” he whimpered out, tears and hiccups rendering his words almost unbearable. 

“So what then? Did he say how he was the one who yanked me under him and forced himself on me? Or how he was the one reeking of alcohol? Did he tell you he was sorry?” each word ringing in each of their ears. 

“Yeah, Luke” he said, voice breaking over the younger’s name. “He told me-he said he was sorry” voice thick with pain he carried on. “And- and I told him to stay away. To not go anywhere near you, even if you’re not mine anymore,”. Michael’s eyes stayed glued to the floor the whole time, but even from the awkward angle, Luke could see the tears in his eyes and also the burning fire beneath them. 

Luke parted his lips to speak but Michael raised his hand, somehow keeping control of his muscles and regaining command of his hunched position and tumbling tears. “He’s not to touch you. Ever” the last word dripped remorse and regret. He straightened lightly; righting himself but the way his eyes shone showed Luke he wasn’t actually okay. Raising a hand to the blonde’s face he tried to reach for him, the younger of the two stepped back, slapping the hand away until it fell beside its owner heavily. Luke’s cheeks stung. A horrible, stomach churning look plastered itself across the darker haired boys face. 

“I’m sorry” he whimpered, his whole body coiled tightly like a spring. “I’ll pack my stuff and I’ll be out the apartment by tonight. I’m truly sorry”. The words ‘I love you’ sat on the tip of his tongue, weighing it down and threatening to gag him. But as his legs carried him out of Luke’s room, down the stairs and out to his car, the words came out and were only heard by the wind that carried his voice away. 

* * *

Black bin bags were piled high all over the front lawn of the apartment. Luke had come, subconsciously changing in the dark of his room, stealing the keys to his mum’s car and driving there. It looked like a bomb had hit it, a frantic Michael not seen but heard crashing around in the house, was the only sound. Luke’s eyes were still rimmed with red and salt was still damp on his cheeks. 

“Mikey” he whispered. Knowing the other boy wouldn’t hear as the call was so quiet, even though the sound of himself calling the older boys’ name echoed in his ears, ringing and crashing around, banging against the sides and making his head throb. “Mikey” he said louder, from the small pavement that lead up to the house here he stood. A few steps from the door, Luke was rooted to the spot. The crashing stopped, as if the boy inside was listening, before not hearing anything again then carrying on packing. “ _Michael._ ” The blonde practically wailed. And this time the boy inside heard. Frantic scrambling was heard from indoors, until his frame was visible in the doorway. He made no step to move forwards but stood there and mouthed “Luke.” 

“I love you” the blonde said, but his mouth made no sound and no words came from it. His mouth had formed the words, lips moving but the sound accompanying them had not come. He coughed. “Michael I love you” and this time sounded breeched the space. Michael’s eyes widened, face falling, before he threw whatever celotaping contraption he had been using on the cardboard boxes on a soft looking bin bag. Three large strides and he was in front of the taller boy, the darkness under his eyes even deeper now Luke could see the bruising so close. Michael’s fluttering eyelids splashed dark eyelashes across them, eyelashes that almost blended with the abused state from sleepless nights. Bringing his hands to the blonde’s face; he cupped both cheeks, swiping thumbs over his fair coloured yet damp eyelashes. 

“I love you more” the older boy whispered, before he leaned in the short distance and sealed his words with kisses. Sweet little peaks on the blonde’s lips, each one done with a slight squeeze of his cheeks and a mumbled sorry from Michael. Luke placed one of his hands on the top of his, prising it from his face. He stopped the little kisses and wrapped his long arms from around the younger boy. Enveloping and engulfing him in a hug which he leaned into. One hand was wrapped around his waist, pulling Luke towards the other boy and another soothed and petted his controversially flat hair. Michael shushed his hiccups and Luke’s hands gripped his shirt, balling it in his fists. 

"I love you” Michael whispered into blonde hair, pressing the occasional kiss to his forehead. 

Lifting the hand that was tangled in Luke’s blonde hair to his back pocket, his hand closed around something in it. A pair of keys were in his hand, Luke’s keys. The ones he had left on the counter top the day he walked out. When Luke’s hands closed around them, he clutched them to his chest, pressing the cold metal to the skin there through his T-shirt. Michael hugged him closer, his heat causing the shards of ice in Luke’s heart to melt and leave only a single beating muscle. And with each beat, a sound resonated loud and clear. A sound that sounded more like a name. And that name was Michael’s.  


**Author's Note:**

> ((side note: I'm looking for a beta so if anyone is interested hmu in the comments and we'll get talking ;) )) 
> 
> thanks for reading!!!


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